Shout Out to my Ex-English teacher, Jennifer Trinity who just got married! You go Jen!

Eh, I am lazy. This is NOT ANYTHING TO DO WITH AFTERMATH OF THE STORM. Well it's Whitney and her past. This has drops of romance. Whitney isn't with Sweets' yet (sometime in Season 3) and this is just a little bonding moment with her and Zack Addy. Who I may or may not have a very small fangirl crush on.

Disclaimer: I own Whitney, her family and her issues. Zack Addy and everything else is owned by CBS or someone like that.

Warning: Mild swearing, self-harm, and sad slightly one-sided love (sniffle).

Whitney's POV

My braclets clank against my boney wrists and my bag smashes on my fragile hip bone. I trug home from school. I hear people jearing my name and someone psuhes me to the ground. My books fall over the concert and my hands skid across the ground. Blood starts spilling from my knees and my skin rips. When I reach for Looking For JJ, somone's foots lands in my face. I flip backwards and my head smashes on the ground.

Emmie, the lead girl, fist colids with my face and my lips splits. There painfilled laugher echos around me and I whisper under my breath "Don't I get enough of this at home."

My hands shake as I transfer the Athyl Acetate from the test tube to the bug. I almost go to pick up the Formaldehyd when I feel his arms scrap almost mine, his voice screaming that I'm stupid and he wishes that I wasn't his daughter.

I shiver and then I hear footsteps behind me and then I grab the scalpel. Spinning around I almost stab Doctor Brennan's intern, Zack Addy.

"I am sorry Whitney. Did I scare you?"

"No, I just didn't hear you come and I was in a daydream."

"Oh well, Doctor Brennan asked me to drop off this sample of the bone to you." He says as he hands me some test tubes with bones in them. I smile and then place them on the table for Doctor Hodgins to look at later. Going back to the Formaldehyd, I start looking at the dead butterfly. I like butterfly's.

My father's hand slaps me across my cheek and I feel blood start to come from my mouth. His hand slams into my stomach and my cheek starts to turn pink. "You stupid child! I wish that I never had you!"

Mom looks at me and then scream, "You are a stupid child." Dad starts strangling me and I claw at his hands. Eve looks around the corner, her blonde hair drifting past her shoulders. Coughing I drop to the ground in a pile of dead girl. Dead on the inside, alive on the outside.

Someone's hand touches my shoulder and electricity runs through me. I turn around and it's Zack again. He looks at me, blue eyes scared. Zack lightly touches my cheek and says, "What's wrong?"

"I'm having night..."

He nods, "Nightmares. I understand." Zack understands something that isn't science? I smile at him, pressing my purple lips together. "If you ever need to talk-"

"I'll talk to you." I hug him and then shove him from Doctor Hodgins' lab.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

I draw it across my arm again. I cough and look at the razor blade that is lying in my hand. Trickles of blood are dropping from my arm and I whimper. I am alive. I can feel this. Reaching for it again, I hear my phone ring. Picking it up, I watch as the blood drops on my white carpet. "Hi?"

"Hello Whitney. It's Zack."

"Oh hey Zack." I look back at my blood covered arm. It's almost stopped bleeding and the blood is clotting. "Why did you call?"

"I just wanted to know if you are OK. With everything that has been going on."

"What do you mean going on?" I snap, my fist's turning into dead bird claws. Cold, clamming and tight.

"The case. What else would I be talking about?"

"Uh, nothing."

"What is wrong?" Zack says.

"Nothing Zack. Nothing."

"Whitney, please do not lie to me."

"Leave me alone Zack."

"Where are you Whitney?"

"At home."

"Address?"

"Watercress Way. Apartment block, 16. 78b, sixteenth floor." I say as tears start spilling down my cheeks. I press my fingers against the cuts and watch as more blood starts spurting from it, dribbling down my fingers.

"I will be there in ten minutes, OK?"

"Please." I say as the razor blade starts digging into the palm of my hand. "Please." I feel even more salty tears roll down my white skin. I clench my hands together and feel the silver metal digging into my hand. Blood has covered my hand and I can feel my mind shattering from the darkness around me.

I curl up against the couch and the door bell rings, "Zack?" I whisper. I don't know if he could hear me, but the door opens and he rushes over to me. He fingers uncurl my hand and pull the blooded razor from my hand. "Do you have a medical kit?"

I nod and point to the bathroom. He picks the razor up and walks off. I rest my head on my knees and wrap my arms around my torso. Zack comes back in and pulls my head up and takes my arms.

He starts washing my arm with antiseptic and I close my eyes, trying to ignore the stinging pain.

"Whitney. Look at me." I look at him, his light blue eyes worming into my dark blue ones. Taking out some white, sterial cotton and wraps it around my arm. Zack takes my left hand and starts cleaning the deep cut. He looks at me again and whispers, "Your not okay are you?" I look at him, telling him with my eyes that it's obious that I'm anything but okay. "Sorry." He plasters the cut in a white gel and bandages it up too.

"Thanks Zack." I curl myself into his side and he pulls me into a hug. "Please help me." He lightly pushes some hair from my face.

"Of course." He pulls me up and I start clinging to his shirt as I direct him to my room. Zack carefully places me down on my bed and then walks out. "No! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get you some water and Panadol."

"Oh, OK then." I feel the palest blush crawling up my cheeks and I drop my head onto my pillow. Zack comes back in, passing me the water and two Panadol tablets. I swallow them and Zack comes to sit next to me. He gently pushes a bright blue streak of my hair from my eyes and then I grab his hand. I press it against my hand my cheek.

"Your really cold." He says, and then I kiss him.

Re-Wind (five times so I can make it that we never met)

Zack's POV

Cam passes me the test tubes and tells me to bring them to Doctor Hodgins, if not then Whitney. I walk from her office and pass through the Platform and into Hodgins' lab. Whitney's in there and her hands are shaking as she holds a jar of Athyl Acetate. Some tears are rolling down her cheeks and she picks up something. Whitney spins around and lunges at me with a scalpel. I jump back and her eyes widen with fear.

"I am sorry Whitney. Did I scare you?" I ask.

"No, I just didn't hear you come in and I was in a daydream."

I smile at her and then say to her, "Oh, well, Doctor Brennan asked me to drop his sample of the bone to you." I hand her the test tubes that have the bones and then walk off. Some part of me tells me to go back to her.

There's something up with Whitney. I walk back into the room and she almost looks the same as she did before. Her hands are shaking and she's got some tears rolling down her.

I lightly touch her shoulder and something sparks between us. Whitney turns around and looks at me, eyes dark slits. My hand wanders to her face, "What's wrong?" She looks scared when I ask her. She starts fiddling with her hands and then says, "I'm having night..."

"Nightmares. I understand." I do understand, I've had nightmares more often then I'd like too. Her hands are fiddling with each other again and she looks like she's trying to pulll the skin off, as if to leave nothing but bone. "If you ever need to talk-"

She cuts me off and says, "I'll talk to you." She hugs me and then shoves me from the lab.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

I'm sitting in my small flat, thinking about Whitney. She's somewhere right now doing God knows what. I've always wondered if she was a... a... self-harmer. She always struck me as someone like that. Her personality is emotionally unstable. One day she's happy, the next sad. Grumpy, crying, joy, and everything else.

Going into my living area, I take the phone and dial Whitney's number in. She answers with a faint, "Hi?"

I'm revealed that she's there. "Hello Whitney. It's Zack."

"Oh hey Zack. Why did you call?" I feel slight offended that she just wants to know why I called. I'm her friend, right? Friends call each other do they not? I shake my head.

"I just wanted to know if you are OK with everything that has been going on." It seems like a fair thing to ask about but since I have no idea what runs through Whitney's head, I feel stunned by her answer and that thinks of me like that me like that.

"What do you mean going on?"

What else would be going on? "The case. What else would I be talking about?"

"Uh, nothing." Lier.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing Zack. Nothing."

"Whitney, please do not lie to me." I don't like the fact that she's treating me like I am worthless because I am on a different 'page to her' (as Agent Booth would put it).

"Leave me alone Zack."

I sigh. The best thing for her right now would be for someone to be with her. I can picture her. If I am right about her, then it means that she's self harming. "Where are you Whitney?"

"At home."

"Address?" I ask.

"Watercress Way. Apartment block 16. 78b, sixteenth floor." I can hear her sniff and I can tell that she's crying. I glup and pick my keys up (A/N: I don't care. Zack can drive now) and say, "I will be there in ten minutes, OK?"

"Please." and then there is a soft sound of a whimper and she then whispers, "Please." again. I glup and drop the phone down, crashing from my flat.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After walking up 259 stairs, I lightly press on her door bell. I believe that Whitney lightly whispers my name and I push the door open. And there she is. Smaller then ever. Her compartmentalize skills are gone and this is how she's dealing with it. Her hair is lank and hanging over her face. I jog over to her and pull her clasped fit open. A blood covered razor blade is buried in her hand. I pull it out and ask her if she has a medical kit.

She points to the bathroom and wen I get in there the tiles have blood smudges on them. Old and new. I quickly start going through her drawers, also taking ot every sharp razor blade, scissors etc that I find. I scribble a note that says Sorry and stick it on the mirror. When I find it, I rush out to the mental unstable girl.

I take an antiseptic wipe and start to lightly dab at her blood covered arm. She closes her eyes and whimpers under her breath. "Whitney. Look at me." She opens her dark blue eyes and then it hits me. She's beautiful. Even as a blooded, fragmented mess; she's the most beautiful woman I have ever met.

I continue to fix her wounds until they are all wrapped in clean white cotton bandages.

"Your not okay are you?" She looks at me skeptically and after a while I understand what she means. "Sorry." I duck my head.

"Thanks Zack." She curls herself into my side and for some reason my arms go around her. "Please help me." It doesn't shock me what she says, but my own choice of next words does.

"Of course."

I lift her up and start to drag her limp body towards her bedroom. It's painted black with a black bed, black pillow. Black everything. This does not shock me. I decide that her head will be hurting from the blood loss and so I turn to go to the kitchen until she screams, "No! Where are you going?"

"To get you some water and Panadol."

"Oh, OK then." A light blush has painted her cheeks. Blood loss. When I get there, I take her knifes and scissors placing them into a bag that I hide. Filling up a clear glass and grabbing to white pills, I walk back to her room. I hand her the glass and pills. She swallows them and I sit next to her. God, she's ever so... Angela would use the term 'hot'.

Some of her blue streaked black hair is falling in her face, so I go to push it back and she catches my fingers like a butterfly. Pressing them to her cheek, I whisper "Your really cold." Then her warm lips press themselves against mine.

Aww. Zack. Aww. Awkward that I am so lazy with my stories. Aww. Im going to eat something.

Peace -Val-